So I went down to the bar.  The Million Dollar Bar, so called because the plot value if you level it, is worth so much more.  But as of today, it is 3 massive electrical cable drums, wooden and painted by a local patron and boat builder, a wooden hatch from which drinks can be purchased, a cantankerous patron and a spectacular view of the bay.

I like to drink beer!  This is not an AA introduction, although according to most anal websites regarding your health, it should be.  I have spent many an hour drinking the coldest, and very cheap, beer at Kanti Awa (means beside the water).  I have become one of the premier clients!

My relationship with the owner has been difficult. In his eyes, I stole his fiancée!  She would not fully agree but that’s up to them to sort out.  Let’s just say buying beer was not always smooth.  His English is poor, he sort of slurs anyway in either Dutch, Papiamento or English so talking has never been smooth sailing.  But over time our relationship has varied between him threatening to get me deported, warning Americans that I am English and a bad man, to giving me free beers.

Anyway, tonight I met my girlfriend and her Dad at the bar. We caught up since yesterday – she works and I don’t.  So trying to impress her that my day consisted of cleaning/sorting out the contents of my fridge and Skyping with my Mum was an uphill struggle!  She had been teaching kids all day so I guess I was on a loser and I had earlier posted my discovery of 7 pots of mustard so that was not a deal breaker.

Then along came an American couple, 7 marriages or divorces between them, who spend time on the island when not living in Florida.  Nice enough people, a bit Trumpy perhaps, but they were happy for me to decline the English verb of “Bollocks” and its variation when used with “Dogs”.  Interestingly, I think they found me to be quite fun/weird/strange because I was English.  They had had an English friend who was a “hoot” and apparently I was too!

The crowd changed, I was joined by a friend, my girlfriend left (and some money behind the bar), the Trumpys left and soon it became a small tight knit group.

The Patron, wearing his Brazil football shirt, looking like an ancient overweight Ronaldo, his skinny side kick Yopi the boatbuilder, Kleto, the old guy living beneath the poverty line who we always buy beers for (he’s in his 80’s and just sits there and gets free beers – my role model for later) and a Venezuelan guy.

The beer hatch is closed, the Patron is customer side, Kleto has a beer sitting quietly in the corner, Yopi is with his cat – the most bar aware and tranquil cat ever and the Venezuelan who is playing Latino music from his phone on a Bluetooth speaker.

With my most limited command of language, at my request we started to play Maña, a Mexican rock band, the sound from the speaker was clear, loud and full of bass, the wind was from behind us and so it carried across the promenade.

Tourists, locals out late exercising in the cool, passed by looking at this odd group of not so young men with good music.  The metal chain was in place keeping them out, the beer hatch was closed but we were happy as Patron would pop through the side gate and bring refills.

Three out of four of us communicated with others in Papiamento or Spanish. Me, largely just looking at the yachts trembling on their moorings,  in the declining breeze, watching the incoming planes beaming on their way across the bay to the airport.  It was such a beautiful movie to watch, with a great soundtrack and friends/acquaintances sharing a cold beer.

AND there was Romance.  A young couple sat across the road, on the steps leading to a jetty.  They were close, arms around each other, her long dark hair reaching to her waist and then ….

She got up, starting waving her arms around, was cajoled into sitting down again, next to him but not close.  I urged the Venezuelan to play more romantic music, to narrow the distance of our young lovers sitting looking over the bay.

But then a crisis!  I ran out of cigarettes, my bladder was bursting – the patron had locked the toilet and the lovers were sitting by the sea where I pee!

So who knows?  I am a romantic at heart so I believe that they lived happily ever after! I got home and made it to the toilet on time – surely a good omen?  So they must have made up (and maybe made out).

But in between all these busy moments, there was that time, dressed in shorts, t-shirts and flip flops, standing by the sea, with good friends, on a beautiful bay, beer in hand, just breathing and living.  I think we all communicated with something or someone.